


As It Was In The Beginning

by mydeira, Sadbhyl



Series: Responsible Adults (aka, The Menageaverse) [96]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 04:57:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All is at last right with the world, for the moment.  Time for a little celebration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published November 10, 2005
> 
> More than a year and a half later, the Ménageaverse finally draws to a close, well as much of a close as is possible with this lot. The main tale is done, but they have little ideas they keep springing on us that will get a voice sooner or later. As it was in the beginning, so it shall be in the end. I hope I did justice to them here. It’s never easy to say good-bye. Probably why they took so long to say it. And last, but not least, let me give a huge thank you to [](http://sadbhyl.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://sadbhyl.livejournal.com/)**sadbhyl** for all of her support and brainstorming and sharing of this massive undertaking. It's been a hell of a ride, hasn't it? It wouldn’t be were it not for her involvement. And thank you, dear readers, for all of your comments and support over these many, many months. Enjoy.

Ethan and alcohol. It was a combination that never led to any good, but that wasn’t always such a terrible thing.

“You might want to take it easy,” Giles advised as Ethan finished off his pint of Harp’s.

“Been taking it easy for nearly six months, Rupert. I think I’ve earned the right to a bit of indulgence,” Ethan replied, motioning to the waitress and ordering another round. After she disappeared, he continued, “After all, it’s a celebration, isn’t it?”

Indeed it was. Ethan had finally been given the all clear from his physical therapist to resume normal activities. In moderation. Not that he was capable of such a thing. Ethan never did anything in moderation; it had always been all or nothing. It was definitely one of the man’s fatal flaws, or near fatal. But if he had been a man of moderation, his deception of the First, as well as the rest of them, wouldn’t have been as successful as it had been.

“A celebration, yes,” Giles agreed finally. He didn’t fight the smile that teased at his lips. “But it won’t be much of one if you’re passed out before it’s even begun.”

“How long have you known me, Ripper? You know it takes more than a couple pints to take me out of the game. If that’s the case, though, you really should have let the First finish me off,” Ethan said, the lightness of his tone forced.

“That’s not funny.”

Ethan grimaced. “I know it isn’t. But it’s never stopped me before.”

Giles shook his head. “No, it certainly never has.”

“So, I’m surprised you were able to get a free night,” Ethan changed the subject. “You think the Council can survive a night without you?”

“If they can’t, we’re in pretty sorry shape,” Giles replied. “But Council be hanged, do you honestly think that I would let Joyce have you all to herself tonight?”

“That’s not jealousy I hear, is it?” His friend grinned.

“I have every right to be jealous, don’t I? When I’m out of the picture, you two start going to nude beaches and crashing weddings. And what it is about Thai that turns you two into animals is beyond me,” Giles complained. “What do I get? Tied to the bed and tortured for hours on end.”

“And love every minute of it.” Ethan leered at him.

“That’s not the point,” Giles protested, his body responding instinctively to the banter and Ethan’s look of pure sin. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Ethan said innocently.

“Like you’re trying to decide which of a dozen ways will best piss me off enough to drag you out of that booth, take you out back, and thrash you soundly before fucking you without restraint.” Giles’ controlled tone grew rougher as he spoke, realizing that’s exactly what he wanted to do.

Ethan leaned back with a taunting smirk. “Fifteen.”

“Fifteen what?”

“I know of at least fifteen different ways to get you to do that.”

Giles eyes narrowed as he considered Ethan. “You’re trying to provoke me on purpose.”

“Now why ever would I want to do that?” Ethan asked, his voice gone low, enticing.

“For the only reason you ever do it.” They turned to see Joyce standing at the end of the table, eyes dancing as she watched them. “You want Ripper to come out and play.”

Ethan reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing it lightly. “What can I say? I’m in the mood for a little rough handling. I was treated like an invalid for far longer than was necessary,” he said petulantly, tugging on her hand to pull her down into the booth beside him. “And you, my dear, having been in a similar situation, were far from sympathetic.”

Joyce smiled across the table at Giles. “We were just doing what the doctor ordered, weren’t we?”

Giles nodded. “Who are we to argue with doctor’s orders?”

For the first time in months, maybe even years, Giles felt truly at ease and content. Sorting out the slayers and getting the new Council up and running wasn’t the easiest of tasks, but it was nothing compared to the hell of the last year. And he was with his lovers, both healthy and happy. He had never been more appreciative of the people in his life than he was now.

Ethan’s chuckle broke him out of his thoughts. “Rupert’s getting sentimental, better watch out,” he said to Joyce.

“I am not,” Giles denied, even though, as always, Ethan read him spot on.

“You are so, mate. You’ve got the pleased little half-smile you get and everything.”

“I think he has a right to get sentimental,” Joyce defended. “Besides, he looks cute when he gets like that.”

Ethan snickered.

“What?” Giles asked.

“You and cute. It’s just not right,” Ethan replied, his voice full of amusement.

“What’s wrong with me being cute?”

“Think about what you just said, Rupert.”

Giles just looked at him.

Ethan rolled his eyes. “You are not meant to be cute,” he explained. “Striking, gorgeous, occasionally breath-taking, but never cute.”

“He can be cute,” Joyce protested, jumping in.

“No, he cannot,” Ethan said. Then added, not quite looking at either of them, but acting casual, “It doesn’t do him justice.”

To say Giles was flattered was an understatement, but it wouldn’t do to get sappy and let the game falter. They weren’t made for sappy, either. He caught Joyce’s eye. “Did Ethan just compliment me? I think the doctor may have cleared him too soon. He can’t be himself yet.”

It was wonderful to watch Joyce fight the smile that wanted to take over. “I don’t know what is wrong with the two of you being nice to each other for more than a few minutes at a time. Are you afraid it’ll make you lesser men?”

“I think you have been around me too long,” Ethan observed, sounding too pleased with the observation.

Joyce was positively radiant. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Ethan just doesn’t like competition,” Giles threw in.

“Oh, I like competition well enough,” Ethan said, the words as smooth as sex.

“Are you sure you can keep up?” Joyce challenged.

Ethan flashed Giles a look that was pure sin. “And you say I’m cocky? I’m out of it for a few months and the lady thinks she can hold her own against me.”

“The lady can more than hold her own,” Joyce stated. Then she sat back easily. “So what does a girl have to do to get a drink around here?”

~*~

Joyce sipped her drink as she watched Rupert and Ethan bickered good-naturedly over everything and nothing with the familiarity and practiced ease of two men who had known each other for nearly three decades. Aside from the occasional comment to remind them that they weren’t alone, she was perfectly content to sit there and listen to them. And if they got too involved in each other, they always found a way of making it up to her.

The three of them hadn’t had a night out like this since . . . well, since . . . she couldn’t remember the last time they had gone out, the three of them. She and Ethan had gone out a few times the previous summer when Rupert had been overseeing Willow’s recovery. Before that, they had still been finding their way back to each other and going out hadn’t been as appealing as staying in. She reviewed the last few years but kept coming up with nothing.

“You’re looking worried, my girl,” Ethan’s smooth, low tones broke her train of thought.

“We’re ignoring her again, you prat,” Rupert stated with a bluntness that only seemed to come out around Ethan.

Joyce had to laugh. “Yes, you are, but it’s been so long, I’m enjoying it.” Then, after a pause, she said, “I was trying to figure out when the last time was the three of us went out together.”

“Last summer, wasn’t it?” Ethan offered.

She shook her head. “No, that was just you and me.”

“You sure we didn’t go out during those few days Rupert joined us at the beach house?”

“Too knackered, remember?” Rupert interjected.

Ethan grinned. “That’s right. You fell asleep in the middle of a rather spectacular blow.”

Rupert’s cheeks colored as he glared at Ethan. “I did not fall asleep.”

“You were snoring.”

“I may have nodded off, but I did not snore. I don’t snore.”

Joyce snorted at that, but tried to cover by taking a drink.

“Two to one, Ripper. Can’t win against that,” Ethan crowed.

“You do snore, Rupert,” Joyce admitted. But then she amended, “Only when you’re really tired, though.”

“It would be nice if you would take my side just once,” Rupert replied, sounding wounded.

“I just said you snored, not that you fell asleep.”

“Same thing,” he sniffed.

Ethan spoke up, “For the record, I’ve forgiven you for that.”

Rupert turned on him. “If it was that spectacular of a blow, I wouldn’t have fallen asleep then, would I?”

“So you admit you fell asleep.” Ethan grinned triumphantly.

Rupert looked like he wanted to reach across the table and throttle Ethan. If Joyce had needed any more proof that things were getting back to normal, that was certainly it.

“You might want to be careful, Ethan,” Rupert warned him. “The doctor has given you the all clear, after all.”

Joyce cleared her throat. She wasn’t ready to be on the sidelines again just yet. “So if we didn’t go out last summer, when was the last time?”

“That spring sometime?” Rupert ventured, never looking away from Ethan. The energy between them was so intense, it was nearly electric.

It was then that Joyce realized that Ethan wasn’t the only one starved for intimacy. Not that they had abstained completely the last six months. After everything they had been through, that was next to impossible. Due to Ethan’s recovery and rehabilitation, they had had to get creative to involve Ethan in things, which was alright in the short run but far from satisfying compared to what they were used to. One evening a couple months back, Rupert had had a particularly rough day at the Council and Ripper had let off some steam by tormenting Ethan with everything he wasn’t allowed to do yet. Not that they left him completely bereft, but he had been grouchier than normal the next few days, regardless. While part of Joyce had felt bad about tormenting him, a larger part of her had enjoyed the evening far too much to feel guilty for long. And it wasn’t like Ethan wouldn’t have done the same to Rupert if he had the chance. Joyce figured she owed him a bit of payback for all those tantric sessions.

“No, we were too busy staying in,” Ethan purred, reclining easily against the corner made by the wall and the booth, watching them both hungrily. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“London that first summer,” Joyce said finally. And she knew she was right. Not since London.

“That was over three years ago,” Rupert said in disbelief.

“I know it was.”

“All that glorious leather,” Ethan sighed contentedly. “You probably let those pants of yours get swallowed up with Sunnydale, didn’t you, Rupert?”

“There were other matters on my mind besides salvaging a pair of ridiculous pants,” Rupert replied nonplused.

“Pity. They really did wonders for your ass,” Ethan said disappointedly.

“You really should get another pair,” Joyce chimed in. “I just wish I still had my skirt.”

“Buried with your house?”

She shrugged. “No idea. I sent it out to the cleaners when we got back, picked it up and never saw it again after that. I think I caught sight of it in Buffy’s closet. I would have taken it back, but that was when I still wanted this to be a secret. However, Dawn and I went a number of rounds over those boots. Those I could justify owning.”

She had been very attached to those boots, and petty though it was, it was part of the reason she had grounded Dawn for two weeks instead of one when she had ruined them the Halloween Buffy came back. Since that time, she had looked but had yet to find a pair that were even half so comfortable and good looking.

Ethan’s eyes drifted down to her legs under the table. “Personally, I prefer your legs much as they are right now, bare with just enough revealed by those charming knee-length skirts you like to wear. Respectable and enticing all at the same time. It’s a shame you never wear sweater-sets anymore.”

“I liked to wear them to work. But since I’ve become a woman of leisure, so to speak, there hasn’t been a need,” she said.

Ethan smiled predatorily. “My dear, sweater-sets were not meant for work alone.”

The words were innocent enough, and yet somehow he managed to inflect them with the least innocent of intents; he had a way of talking dirty without actually talking dirty.

“I still have trouble picturing you with a conservative kink,” Rupert commented to Ethan.

“It’s not a kink. Just a preference,” Ethan said without defense. “Admit it, our girl wears them so very well.”

Rupert ducked his head, seeming to smile in spite of himself.

“You can’t not call that cute,” Joyce said, picking up their earlier argument as she motioned to Rupert.

“How about endearing?” Ethan offered.

“It’ll do,” she conceded, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.

“So that’s all I rate anymore?” he pouted. “A chaste, brotherly kiss?”

Before Joyce could say anything, Ethan pulled her to him, his lips capturing hers with anything but chaste intent. She responded eagerly to his hungry advance. Too long had their kisses been restrained, held back in an attempt not to tempt what couldn’t be taken further. But now there were no restrictions. Joyce gave herself over, heedless of the public place. It had been too long since she had been kissed like this by Ethan. She had always had a particular fondness for the way he kissed, intimate, passionate and honest. It was the one place he couldn’t hide behind his masks.

His hand came to rest on her lower back, pulling her closer despite the limitations forced upon them by the booth.

Rupert’s well-timed “ahem” brought her back to her senses, and she reluctantly pulled away.

“Now, is that really appropriate public behavior?” Rupert chastised them, but his eyes danced with a mixture of amusement and desire.

“Jealous?” Ethan asked, voice dropping into the low register that always settled warmly in Joyce’s belly.

When Rupert replied, “Always,” Joyce was ready to settle their tab and head home.

~*~

“Always,” Rupert replied, Ripper flickering briefly in his gaze.

As with every other time Rupert looked at him like that, Ethan grew harder. It was amazing how much power a simple look could have. God, how he had missed that look.

He had been healed for months and had regained most of his strength weeks ago, but Rupert and Joyce had insisted he keep to the doctor’s orders. Ethan hated following orders. He especially hated following orders that kept him from his lovers longer than was necessary, lovers that he had given up as lost to him when he had taken it into his head to be noble for the first time in his life. And sadly, if it meant keeping Joyce and Rupert alive, he would do it again. He was hopeless.

“Ethan?” Joyce asked, the barest hint of concern in the question.

“Hm?”

“You okay?”

He smiled. “Just mourning the loss of the man who would have said to hell with public decorum and had his way with you in this booth.”

She blushed, but when she spoke, her words were calculated. “But your options are so limited here. Just think of how much more you can do to me back at the apartment.”

“Or what we can do to you, Ethan,” Rupert added.

“Do I get to make any requests?”

“If you behave yourself until we get back, it’s an option,” Ripper stated.

“I don’t think there’s any option about it. You owe me, Ripper. After that little stunt you and Joyce pulled, you owe me,” Ethan said dangerously. That evening had probably given him some of the best blows in memory, yet the pleasure was tempered by having to watch Ripper fuck Joyce all the ways he couldn’t yet but desperately wanted to and a few ways he wanted Ripper to fuck him. They would pay for their fun. They would pay. He smiled at the last thought.

“He’s plotting his revenge, Joyce,” Ripper said knowingly, flashing his teeth at Ethan. “Thinks he’s ready to take us on.”

“Oh, he’s been ready,” Ethan replied, picturing all the ways he could make Ripper beg to come.

It was too bad he had thrown out the Fyarl spell. That would certainly be one way to pay Rupert back, but aside from a good laugh, there was little Ethan would get out of it. He had other means of revenge that were much more beneficial to himself.

Ethan was jarred from his thoughts by the waitress talking to Joyce. “Thank you, ma’am. You folks have a lovely evening now.”

He glanced across the table to Rupert who looked as confused as he felt.

Joyce just smiled. “We could start another tab if you boys like, but personally, I’m ready to head home.”

Yet again the lady had trumped them. It was going to be an enjoyable evening.

~*~

It was an impulse Giles at one time wouldn’t have acted upon. But the time of such ridiculous concerns had long since past. It had been the better part of a year since he had been able touch Ethan without fear of aggravating the injuries he had sustained at the hands of the First.

The moment they stepped out into the fine drizzle and Joyce set about trying to hail a cab, Giles grabbed Ethan and pressed him back against the brickwork of the neighboring building.

“My, haven’t we grown impatient in our old age,” Ethan observed in amusement as he regarded Giles through half-lidded eyes.

“I think I still have patience, considering I didn’t drag you back to the men’s room and fuck you like I would have once upon a time,” Ripper said, grinning as he tried to determine how best to remind his lover who had power over whom.

“Or the alley. I have more than a few fond memories of some of these alleys.” Ethan reclined against the wall with unhurried ease, waiting for him to make his move. “I was particularly fond of the one behind Barney’s old joint after your gigs there.”

“Only because you spent the entire session doing everything you could to make me jealous enough to take you out back.”

“Worked every time, didn’t it?”

Rather than give Ethan the satisfaction of hearing he was right, Giles lay claim to his oldest lover’s mouth, eliminating the need for words. The man had a mouth that was without compare. Pliant and greedy at the same time.

Ethan pulled him closer, hips grinding up with evident need. Too long restrained. Too long—

“Rupert,” Joyce murmured into his ear, pressing tight against his back, reminding him that there was more than Ethan to be enjoyed.

Giles broke away from Ethan with an audible protest from the man. “Yes, Joyce?” He tried not to sound annoyed.

“The cab is here,” she replied, a hint of laughter in her voice.

It was much more convenient back in Sunnydale when they could walk back to his place. Not that it wasn’t an option, as his flat by the new Council building was only a few blocks away. However, unlike Ethan’s townhouse in Notting Hill, Giles’ flat was more or less a place to crash when business kept him in the city too late or required that he be available at a moment’s notice. And it lacked all the comforts of home.

“You had to interrupt him just when things were getting good,” Ethan groused, bending down to pick up his cane that had fallen unheeded to the ground.

Giles felt a brief flicker rage at the all too visible reminder of what the Bringers had done to Ethan. The man was lucky to be alive, let alone able to walk. He still moved with the same predatory grace he always had, and the limp was only noticeable if you were looking for it. As for the cane, Ethan carried it as if it were an accessory to give him a dignified air rather than a necessity for support. And as far as accessories went, the simply carved pine was too understated for Ethan. But it had been the best of the lot available at the therapist’s.

“Coming?” Ethan asked as he ducked into the car after Joyce, his lips twitching with mirth at having caught Giles lost in his thoughts again.

“No, I thought I’d stand here all night,” Giles said tartly before joining them. He barely managed to get the door closed before the driver took off down the street at a breakneck pace. It would be a miracle if they made it home in one piece.

~*~

Joyce leaned against the railing, with Rupert beside her a few steps down, waiting for Ethan to unlock the door. Once, not too long ago, they would have been a tangle of bodies warring for dominance as lust ruled their actions. But now they just waited, respectable to the casual observer. Did it mean that the passion between them had died? No, but it wasn’t as eager as it had once been. It could wait, simmering. However, the main factor was that the stoop was barely big enough to accommodate one person, let alone three.

At the moment, Joyce was a little upset with herself for interrupting Rupert and Ethan when she had. True, it left her on the sidelines, but she really did enjoy watching them together, especially when they held nothing back. She had missed seeing that almost as much as being with both of them. Suddenly, she had the desire to take on Ripper’s role for part of the evening. They were always willing to do anything she asked of them. What if she didn’t ask them this time?

Ethan finally opened the door and stepped inside. He flipped on the foyer light before turning back to them. He must have seen something on her face, because he asked, “Should I be worried, Joyce?”

She smiled easily as she walked past him to hang her jacket up on the coat rack. “Not necessarily,” she replied, facing him again.

“Which means most certainly yes,” Rupert amended, closing the door behind him. To Ethan, he said, “I find that look from her more frightening than I ever did from you.”

Ethan laughed. “I always knew Joyce would surpass me one day.”

Rupert’s lips curled up in mirth. “What is it you want from us, Joyce?”

“I blame you for this entirely, Rupert,” she prefaced. Then, taking a deep breath, she plunged ahead. “I am going to watch.”

“Going to?” Ethan repeated, letting the words roll over his tongue.

“Yes.”

“It isn’t a request.”

“No.”

Ethan smirked. “Now, that you learned from Ripper.”

Something like pride crossed over Rupert’s features.

“Right,” she said, still feeling out the territory but hoping she didn’t sound too unsure of herself. “I’m going to grab a couple bottles of wine and head upstairs to make myself comfortable. You gentlemen may join me in about twenty minutes.”

With that, Joyce turned on her heel and headed for the kitchen, really hoping that they weren’t going to laugh at her behind her back. She was almost one hundred percent certain they wouldn’t, but she had never really tried something like this with them yet so . . . Even if they did laugh at her, there were worse things. They loved her enough to indulge her, and that was what mattered.

Sighing and wondering what she was getting herself into, Joyce took the goblets down from the cupboard. She chose two bottles from Ethan’s vineyard in Spain. Carrying those in her left hand and the goblets with her right, she headed up the back stairs to the master bedroom. If she could make it upstairs with everything intact, only one question remained. Did she wear the peach or the red peignoir?

~*~

“I thought this was supposed to be my night?” Ethan said lightly after Joyce had left them.

“Our girl, it seems, has other plans,” Rupert replied, an odd note in his voice.

Ethan realized what it was. “You’re proud of her.”

Shrugging out of his coat, Rupert glanced at him. “Of course I am. Aren’t you?”

“I was proud of her long before now,” Ethan admitted without reservation, setting his cane aside before slipping out of his coat as well. “She’s come a long way.”

“We all have.”

Ethan nodded. They really had. He really had. Somewhere along the way, he had grown up and grown a conscience. Pathetic. Or so he would have thought before.

Nearly four years ago they had gone into this as a casual affair, no pressure, no intentions beyond a good time and now, well, they had something on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. But even in the beginning, while he hadn’t expected it to last, Ethan had known it was more than casual. The dreams he had had pretty much guaranteed that. Almost prophetic in some respects. And while he wouldn’t admit it out loud, even to himself, after all they had been through, he could almost believe that maybe what they had was meant to last. However, that type of thinking was far too saccharine for his tastes.

Fortunately, Rupert saved him from further descent along that path with his offer of, “Scotch?’

“Absolutely,” he said with more exuberance than even he had been anticipated.

Ripper chuckled. “You can’t possibly be nervous.”

“No, just thirsty.” He made his way over to the liquor cabinet to join Rupert, annoyed somewhat by his right foot’s lack of cooperation. The therapist seemed pleased that he had the range of movement with it that he did. Ethan was not pleased, despite the fact that he knew he was lucky to be around to not be pleased about it. It marked him as a cripple, even though he really wasn’t. Far from it. Still . . . he shoved the thoughts away by taking the scotch down in one swallow. They had no place here tonight.

“You’re nervous,” Ripper taunted, smirking over the rim of his glass.

“Do get over yourself.” Ethan set the glass down and leaned against the cabinet, arms crossed.

“Afraid you’ll disappoint Joyce?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking yourself the same thing?” Ethan countered.

Rupert shrugged Ethan’s words off as he took a sip of his drink. “I have complete confidence in myself.”

“And I’m supposed to be the vain one,” Ethan observed.

“You are.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. Rupert was in a fine mood tonight.

“So, how long are we going to let her boss us around?” Ethan asked.

“As long as she wants.”

“You mean as long as you can stand her telling you what to do.”

“Unlike, you, Ethan, I have a great capacity for restraint.”

Ethan snorted.

“You know I do,” Rupert stated as if it were one of the most obvious facts. Then his tone became goading. “I sure as hell have more self-restraint than you.”

“Only by choice,” Ethan replied simply, not rising to the bait, yet.

Rupert set his glass down and closed the distance between them. “You’re walking into dangerous territory. You’ve gotten cocky these last few months.”

Ethan sighed, trying to sound put-upon, even though he was enjoying every minute. “If the next words out of your mouth are that you’ve gone easy on me, Rupert, I may have to hit you.”

“I have.”

“Gone easy on me? Fucking Joyce and making me watch was not going easy on me,” Ethan pointed out as he stood toe-to-toe with Rupert.

“We made it up to you,” Rupert said innocently. “And you would have done the exact same thing were our positions reversed.”

In a heartbeat. Ethan thought. But out loud he said, “A couple of blows, however good, do not compare to being buried balls deep in her soft, welcoming quim. And you know it.”

“No, nothing really compares to that,” Ripper grinned like the predator he was toying with his prey. “Except being buried inside of you and hearing you curse my name like a deity.”

Ethan’s cock, which had been idling at half-arousal for much of the evening, jumped to immediate attention at Ripper’s words. To cover, he said casually, “Actually, I prefer those rare occasions when you have been rendered completely helpless by my hands and are begging, begging me to let you come.”

Ripper’s eyes grew dark, but it wasn’t with anger. No, it was most definitely not anger that also caused his breath to hitch just so, revealing that all was not calm beneath the seemingly cool exterior.

Ethan’s lips curled in amusement. “It’s what you want, isn’t it? I’m the only one who can give you a break from your role as leader. And you’ve been playing the leader for months now with no downtime, no opportunity for reprieve. You want to be fucked by me even more than you want to fuck me.”

Silence was the closest Ethan would ever get to admission from Ripper on that matter.

“Is that what you want, Ripper?” Ethan purred, reaching up to remove the spectacles that had become more ever-present in the last year. Carefully folding them, he placed them next to the empty scotch glasses on the liquor cabinet. “You’re aching for it. I know you are. You want me to fuck you in front of our girl.”

The barest twitch of Rupert’s eyes was all the warning Ethan had before Rupert was pulling Ethan roughly against himself as his mouth seized upon Ethan’s, pouring out every bit of frustrated arousal that he had been trying to keep in check.

Ethan loved it when Ripper kissed him like this. No gentle sentiment, just passion, lust and the desire for control. All sharp teeth and lashing tongue. Ripper wanted, Ripper took and held nothing back. It was the way Ripper kissed when he knew he had lost, brutal and unforgiving and pissed as hell that Ethan had one-upped him again. It was the kind of kiss that reminded Ethan undeniably that he was alive and this was his reality. This was his.

Ripper broke away from the kiss and began to move down Ethan’s neck, hands coming up to work open Ethan’s shirt. Ripper left a track of tiny bites soothed by laving tongue, his hot breath stirring across moist skin, sending delightful shivers radiating outward. Ethan groaned. It had been too long. However, they couldn’t stay down here.

Reluctant though he was to put an end to this, for the time being, Joyce was waiting upstairs. He sighed, “Ripper, the lady is waiting on us.”

“The lady can keep waiting,” Ripper growled, continuing to nip and lip a trail down Ethan’s chest, seeking out the new skin that was revealed as he unbuttoned Ethan’s shirt.

“Do you really want to piss Joyce off tonight, Rupert?” Ethan asked, doing nothing to stop his lover’s attentions. He leaned against the cabinet as Rupert worked ever lower, reveling in the pleasant sensation of Ripper’s punishing mouth.

“She’ll get over it,” he mumbled as Ethan’s shirt fell open and he reached Ethan’s pants, tugging out the shirttails before moving on to loosen the belt. “What did she expect us to do for twenty minutes?”

“She probably assumed you would have a bit more restraint.”

“I didn’t start this,” Rupert said easily as his fingers slipped behind the waistband of Ethan’s pants, holding Ethan in place.

“You bloody well did, mate,” Ethan argued, fighting to keep his voice even as one of Rupert’s thumbs dipped down to tease over the outline of Ethan’s cock, begging for release against the twill of his slacks.

“Do you want me to stop?” Rupert asked, cool green eyes dancing up at Ethan as his thumb still lightly stroking over Ethan’s cock.

“Fuck you, Ripper.”

“We’re not there yet,” he laughed, staying where he was. He slowly unbuttoned the pants, not hesitating until his fingers caught Ethan’s zipper. “I asked you if you wanted me to stop, Ethan.”

“No, you bastard, I don’t,” Ethan conceded, giving in. Joyce would have to get over it.

With a smirk, Ripper was on his feet again and heading for the stairs. It wasn’t until he spoke that Ethan caught onto his game. “Now you shouldn’t have any doubt as to which one of us has more restraint.”

And then he disappeared upstairs, leaving Ethan alone, hard, and extremely brassed off. He would have Ripper begging for forgiveness before the hour was up.

~*~

Christ, he had been brilliant. Fucking brilliant. Giles grinned as Ripper nearly strutted with pride down the hall to where Joyce waited. Ethan probably wanted to kill him right now. It was far too enjoyable being able to take Ethan down a peg or two. He really shouldn’t enjoy it this much. And yet he did. Immensely.

He couldn’t wait to see how Ethan would retaliate.

Opening the door to the bedroom, Giles stopped in the doorway to admire Joyce reclined on Ethan’s king bed, the amber-orange glow of the fire and candlelight making her golden against the black satin sheets, the peach negligee he so loved complimenting her just right.

She smiled at him over the rim the red wine goblet. “Took you long enough.”

“Had something I needed to take care of,” he said, stepping into the room and lifting off his sweater. He tossed it carelessly into the armchair, never taking his eyes off of Joyce.

“Rupert, what did you do to Ethan?” She sounded every bit the mother she was.

“Now why would you ask something like that?” he asked innocently.

“Because you’re practically giddy,” she said. “And Ethan looks like throttling you wouldn’t half satisfy him.”

Giles turned just in time to have Ethan slam him against the bedroom wall, rattling the new collection of masks that hung there.

“I think I’ve been out of this entirely too long,” Ethan seethed, his voice quiet and rough with emotion. “You think you can best me at my own game.”

“I don’t think, I know.” He could feel Ethan fairly vibrating with the need to act, but Ethan was holding back. It looked like he needed some encouragement. Giles could oblige. “What are you afraid of? You know you can’t hurt me, Ethan.”

Ethan’s eyes were nearly black as his hands came up to rest on the wall by either side of Giles’ head. “No, Rupert, I’m the only one who knows how to hurt you.”

Then Ethan was kissing him, pressing him into the wall, grinding their erections together with such insistent need that Giles couldn’t keep himself from groaning at the contact. It was savage and brutal and fuck but it was nice to finally be on the receiving end. In all their years together, all the way back, it was an extremely rare occasion for Ethan to take the dominate role. He had perfected the art of control as a submissive. But when he did go dominant . . . Giles’ body readily welcomed the thought.

Giles didn’t even notice Ethan’s hands had moved until he felt his shirt rip open. It was one of his favorites. A deep, forest green chambray that Joyce bought him when they moved here, and this was only the second time he had worn it. Bastard owed him a new one. But at the moment Giles really couldn’t manage to care much as Ethan’s hand found its way into his pants, slipping past cotton and elastic to wrap firmly around his cock.

Breaking the kiss, Ethan’s mouth came to rest near Giles’ ear. “What have I told you,” he said gruffly, working Giles’ cock in steady, milking strokes, “about these ridiculous boxer-briefs?”

Giles let his head fall back against the wall, giving himself over to Ethan’s manipulations. It took him a moment to find his voice. “That they’re ridiculous.”

“And?” Ethan’s motions slowed to a near stand-still, his movements almost imperceptible, something that, in Giles’ already aroused state, was beyond infuriating.

“Why do I bother, since they get in the way and inevitably lead to you mocking me?” Giles replied, mimicking Ethan’s derisive tone.

“Precisely,” Ethan said, his teeth nipping lightly at Giles’ ear before he pulled back and glanced down. When he looked back up, he quirked an eyebrow. “You wore the white ones to piss me off, didn’t you?”

Giles just smirked. “What do you think?”

With an aggrieved sigh, Ethan stepped back, his hand slipping away and leaving Giles bereft of contact. “Undress,” he commanded.

Giles spared a glance to Joyce as he slipped his ruined shirt off. She was sitting on the bed, legs tucked under her, watching them intently, the wine held seemingly forgotten in her hand. Her eyebrows raised as she noticed him looking at her and she smiled, then mouthed, “Keep going.”

And he did, pushing his pants and underwear down and kicking them off to the side. After slipping off his socks, he stood there by the wall, naked, waiting, his cock shamelessly begging for attention as it bobbed slightly in time with his heartbeat.

“What shall I do with him, my dear?” Ethan inquired of Joyce.

She set the wine on the nightstand and crawled down to the foot of the bed where she kneeled behind the footboard, her fingers wrapping around to drum lightly on the wood. The slats allowed for tantalizing glimpses of silk and skin. Joyce frowned in consideration for a moment before she finally spoke. “First of all, you can get undressed too. It’s really no fun to watch if you’re all covered up.”

He gave a slight bow. “As you wish.”

Ethan undressed unlike anyone else Giles had ever met. It wasn’t necessarily that he did anything special; he just looked good doing it. Frankly, naked looked good on Ethan. He wore nothing comfortably. Even after the damage wrought by the First’s minions, he was still a remarkable specimen to behold. He had worked hard in therapy, trying to get back to how he had been before. In doing so, he had surpassed his previous condition and was in possibly the best shape of his life. Giles hated him for it some days. Many days, actually. But he had only himself to blame. Yes, the Council kept him busy, but the truth was Giles didn’t have the self-discipline or the real desire to strive for that. Maybe because he knew he didn’t need to.

And when Ethan stood next to him tonight, Giles found that he felt neither envy nor shame. It just felt right. They were who they were, and the woman laying there watching them loved them for it.

“So many choices,” she considered, her eyes traveling over both of them. “What to do.”

“What have we never done that you would like to see?” Giles asked, more curious than anything else.

“I think we’ve done pretty much everything,” Joyce admitted. “Definitely something I should have given more thought to.”

“What turns you on, Joyce?” Ethan prompted.

“With you two? Everything,” she admitted unashamedly. “Right now, the two of you standing there does it for me. And five minutes ago, what you were doing definitely did it for me.”

Giles saw Ethan’s face light up and flashed him a look that he hoped conveyed, “What?”

“When was the last time we blew each other?” Ethan asked him.

“At the same time?”

“Yeah.”

Giles thought back. Had they ever? There was that day he returned for the last time after seeking the potentials and . . . No, that had been all of them. Before that, there had been that—no, they hadn’t. Not since they were younger. Christ, why hadn’t they? Simply, it just had never come up.

“It could certainly resolve that argument we were having downstairs,” Ethan said. “As regards to who has more restraint.”

“Oh no, I think that was resolved quite well when you said to hell with Joyce waiting so I would get you off.”

“Ripper, you wouldn’t let me say no.”

No, he wouldn’t. Giles found it hard to keep a straight face.

“Would you two like a moment alone?” Joyce inquired, her tone only half teasing.

 

 

Ethan grinned like the devil he was. “You know there’s really only one good way to shut me up, Ripper.”

Giles could think of several ways actually; however, there was only one that appealed to him at the moment. Realizing that one of them needed to make a move, Giles walked over to the bed and crawled on behind Joyce.

She twisted around to face him. “I thought you and Ethan were going to stand there all night.”

“I thought us standing there turned you on?”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

He cupped her cheek in affection, then let his hand travel down to her shoulder, just touching her breast before coming to rest on the curve of her waist, reveling in the smoothness of the warm peach silk that lay on her like a second skin. “I love you in this, you know.”

“I do,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him lightly.

“He loves it for the same reason I love those charming sweater-sets,” Ethan chimed in as he joined them on the bed. “Innocent and respectable.”

“And I’m not?” she sat up again to challenge him.

His voice rumbled deep and low. “You always have our respect, dear Joyce, but you are far from innocent.”

Giles lay there, content to watch his lovers kissing over him and knew without a doubt how incredibly fortunate he was to have them in his life.  



	2. Chapter 2

Joyce reluctantly drew away from Ethan. The man really did kiss in the most distracting manner.

“I think there’s something else you should be doing right now,” she said, surprising herself with how sultry she sounded. Jesus, she was turning herself on.

“I didn’t hear any complaints from Rupert,” Ethan said.

No, Rupert wasn’t complaining. If anything, he looked happy, as if he would be fine watching her and Ethan the rest of the night. But it wasn’t Rupert’s turn to watch. It was hers.

“Ethan,” she warned.

“Yes, Mother.” He winked.

She hated it when he did that. “Rupert, are you going to help me here?” Which only made her feel more like a parent trying to bring an unruly child into line. So not going there.

“Ethan, stop teasing the poor woman,” Rupert said, but there was no force behind the words.

Joyce threw up her hands. “I’m ready to be done with the lot of you. There are plenty of viable alternatives that won’t talk back to me and would be just as satisfying as either of you.”

“Blasphemy!” Ethan gasped, feigning shock. “How can even consider such a thing?”

“I can consider it because you bought me just such a thing for my birthday,” she said pointedly. “So really, on all accounts, you only have yourself to blame. As a matter of fact . . .” Joyce jumped off the bed and headed for the bureau.

She had almost reached it when strong arms wrapped around her waist and dragged her backward.

“Now, there’s no need for dramatic gestures, you’ve made your point,” Ethan rumbled against her ear as he pulled her back tight against his chest.

“So you say right now.” She tried to sound stern, but it wasn’t easy. Not with him pressed naked against her, the thin peignoir interfering very little with the feel of him, the planes of his chest and the hard line of his cock resting insistent against her lower back.

“Come back to bed, Joyce,” he crooned, his right hand skating down her stomach, teasing her through the silk. Her legs moved wider automatically as he cupped her through the material, fingers dancing in as far as the garment would allow. “We’ll be good. Do everything you ask without further delay.”

“Promise?” she breathed, eyes drifting closed as she enjoyed the way he made her feel.

“I promise. But I have one small request to which you have every right to deny,” he said. “Wait until after Rupert and I finish to get yourself off.”

“Why?”

“Because I love watching you pleasure yourself. When you give yourself over completely, when you’re only focused on your own pleasure . . .” he took a deep breath and let it out. “You have no idea how incredibly powerful you are then.”

“Maybe,” was all she would agree to.

“That’s all I can ask.”

He steadied her on her feet and was gone, leaving the air too cool against her back.

Joyce took her time to open her eyes and turn around, a slow smile spreading across her face at what she saw. Ethan was seated by Rupert, bent down to kiss the other man with languid ease, in sharp contrast to their earlier interactions. Rupert, still laying down, reached one arm up to curl around Ethan’s neck, holding him there.

Quietly, Joyce made her way to the head of the bed, never once taking her eyes from them. She was careful not to disturb them as she got back onto the bed, curling up where she had previously been perched when they first came in. Leaning over to the nightstand, she retrieved her wine glass and sat back to watch her lovers together.

 

~*~

It never really surprised Ethan how quickly the tone of things between the three of them could change. After standing there with Joyce and talking her back into the bed, he no longer had the desire to take such savage possession of Rupert anymore. It had been quite awhile since they had done this, and Ethan found he wanted to take his time and savor the experience. The mood could always switch back. But right now he wanted to take his time.

Rupert seemed to have no problem going along with that, either, holding Ethan there as he allowed the kiss to deepen. Strange that Ethan felt he would be just fine doing this for the rest of the evening. It was nice.

Reluctantly, he pulled back and looked down at Rupert. “Ready to give this a go?”

Rupert’s hand slipped from around his neck, pausing just long enough to caress his cheek. “Lead the way,” Rupert said, giving him control of the situation. Not necessary, but a nice gesture just the same.

Ethan began to kiss way down Rupert’s chest, his body unfolding behind him as he progressed. He took his time, remapping the familiar terrain, reacquainting himself with every ridge and hollow he had touched a thousand times before but never from this angle. And Rupert lay there, letting him take his time. When they were younger, they had spent hours doing this sort of thing, just exploring each other. Lazy afternoons when Ripper half-slumbered or was relaxed enough to let Rupert slip through. And while Ethan knew it was no longer just the two of them, Joyce quietly looking on, it still felt like it somewhat.

The body he traveled was no longer smooth and firm as it once was, but every inch still carried the memory of what it had been. The truth was Ethan loved Rupert’s body maybe more so now with middle age hiding the boy that had been.

At last he reached Rupert’s cock, heavy and flush with blood. It was an incredibly ugly thing, yet beautiful somehow because of that. Throughout history it had been considered a symbol of power, but when it came right down to it, the cock was the greatest weakness. So easily could the right manipulation bring a man to his knees, begging.

Rupert rolled over onto his side, bending his outer leg at the knee and propping it up. It was a position that left him open and easy to access. Ethan mimicked the position as he tried to figure out how best to begin.

The gentle brush of Rupert’s hand along his shaft took Ethan by surprise. He hadn’t expected Rupert to make the first move. Glancing down he saw Rupert looking back up at him. As if taking Ethan’s attention as his cue, Rupert dipped down and took Ethan completely into his mouth, tongue a gentle caress along Ethan’s shaft as it slid inside.

Ethan had watched Rupert go down on him a number of times, but none were quite like this. Maybe because he had never watched from this angle, had never been able to see the muscles in Rupert’s neck flex as his jaw opened and closed, working along with his tongue to vary the pressure and friction along Ethan’s cock. He saw Rupert’s eyes dance with the smile denied his lips by their current occupation. The man knew him well enough to know when he was utterly awestruck.

It was difficult for Ethan to tear his eyes away. Watching Rupert blowing him was more erotic and arousing than the sensations caused by the act. Before he lost himself completely, Ethan dragged his eyes away and, with a deep breath, set about trying to give Rupert a taste, so to speak, of what was going through his head.

Unlike Rupert had with him, Ethan did not take Rupert’s cock into his mouth right off. There was no hurry, after all. Supporting Rupert with one hand, Ethan brought himself level with his lover’s cock, tongue darting out to trace along the length. From head to base and back again, Ethan did this until he had reacquainted himself with every inch. His tongue moved back up, worrying the head of Rupert’s cock with languid strokes. Changing course, he ran the tip of his tongue along the small crease at the top where salt mixed deliciously with the clean, musky taste of Rupert.

Oddly enough it began to feel like he was blowing himself. Which, in essence, he was, as Rupert was copying his ministrations point for point. It was surreal to the point he could no longer tell who initiated what as he finally took Rupert into his mouth and their movements became a jumble of sensations, doing and being done to. The hot, hungry slide of Rupert’s mouth mimicked his own, smooth one moment than fricative the next with the play of teeth and tongue. Rupert copied his movements near simultaneously that Ethan could almost believe he was blowing himself. The more lost he became, the quicker Ethan began to work, building Rupert and himself up, striving for climax that was rapidly drawing near.

And then Rupert switched up the game, calloused palm running along Ethan’s side, slipping back over the curve of his ass, finger seeking into the valley between and teasing at the entrance hidden there. Ethan groaned as Rupert slipped inside, the sound muffled as it reverberated along Rupert’s shaft. It was almost too much. Ethan lost track of where Rupert ended and he began. Somehow he managed to reciprocate, pleased when Rupert echoed his earlier groan of pleasure at the penetration. In and out, over and around. Never before had Ethan felt so completely disembodied and grounded at the same time.

He came without realizing it as he took down Rupert’s come, swallowing deeply the salt and essence of life that eradicated all rational thought.

They lay there after, spent, sated and rolled onto their backs and to stare at the ceiling. It was more mind-blowing than any drug experience Ethan had ever had.

“Fuck me,” he breathed, as no other words quite came close to summing it up.

“You can say that again,” Rupert agreed, sounding just as taken aback.

It was no wonder they hadn’t done that since they were younger. Ethan didn’t think he’d survive doing that again anytime soon.

 

~*~

Giles didn’t think he was going to be able to move for the rest of the evening. That had been . . . well, it had been incredible. It took considerable effort, but he managed to roll his head to the side to glance up at Joyce.

She sat at the head of the bed, sipping her wine as calmly as she had at the start of the evening. The only indications that she was affected at all were her slightly wider than normal eyes and the faint blush that colored her skin.

He felt the bed shift as Ethan sat up. How the man was able to move at all was beyond Giles’ ken.

“So, which way has that maybe gone?” Ethan asked her, his voice somewhat hoarse.

Joyce finished off the last of the wine, putting the now empty glass aside. She licked her lips before she replied, the moisture dancing in the wavering light. “I think that deserves a yes.”

“This wasn’t meant to be an exchange, Joyce,” Ethan said soberly. “Only say yes if you want to.”

Her voice was low, throaty when she spoke. “I want to.”

Giles hadn’t the faintest idea what his lovers were talking about, but Joyce’s response had him very interested in finding out.

Finally he managed to get enough motivation to sit up, feeling slightly lightheaded as he did so. He looked between his lovers. “Anyone care to fill me in on what’s going on?”

Ethan shrugged and Joyce smiled, holding out her hand, beckoning him to join her. “Come here,” she said, when he didn’t immediately move. Her attention turned to Ethan. “Both of you.”

They obliged, crawling up on either side of her.

“That was amazing,” she said, caressing each of their cheeks in turn. “I can’t begin to tell you how absolutely beautiful the two of you are together. Yes, beautiful.” She took a breath. “Now, if you’ll make yourselves comfortable. I’ll be just a minute.”

With that, she slipped from between them and disappeared into the bathroom.

“Care to fill me in?” Giles asked as he made himself comfortable against the headboard, propping himself up with a few of the numerous pillows that littered their bed.

“I asked Joyce if she would consider waiting until we were finished to get herself off because I love watching her when she does it,” Ethan explained.

Giles felt his cock begin to stir with life again at the thought.

“And I had a feeling that neither of us would be willing to see to her needs for awhile,” he added, just as the toilet flushed and the water from the bathroom sink was turned on.

“I wasn’t certain I would be able to move there at all,” Giles admitted.

“It was something, wasn’t it?”

Something was about as close as Giles could come to pinning the experience down with any words.

“It wasn’t like that when we were younger,” Giles said finally.

“No, it wasn’t.” Then with an unreadable note in Ethan’s voice, “But it couldn’t have been, not with who we were.”

“You mean not with who I was,” Giles corrected. “I was too busy running from myself and being an overbearing prick.”

“We were young, Ripper.”

“Yeah, we were.”

They lapsed into reflective silence until Joyce emerged from the bathroom.

“I left you alone together for five minutes and you aren’t bickering?” she said lightly. “That has to be a new record.”

“If you miss it that much,” Ethan stated, “I’m certain Rupert and I can find something to argue about. What color the sky is, for instance, always a personal favorite.”

Joyce put her fists on her hips, arching one eyebrow in warning. “I’m starting to reconsider here.”

“Ethan, do us both a favor and shut up,” Giles said sternly.

Ethan stretched his arms up with feline grace then his hands behind his head. “Not another word. I promise.”

Giles smiled. “I think that’s as good as you’re going to get,” he told Joyce.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Ethan mumbled.

Giles looked pointedly at Joyce. “See?”

She looked at the ceiling for a moment, shrugged, then walked almost dancer-like to the bed, her hips swaying gently. “Pillows?” she asked as she reached them.

Tempted though he was to take the ones Ethan was using, Giles decided not to press his luck and settle on the surplus off to his right. Joyce stacked the three he threw her in a simple overlap, then got onto the bed and snuggled down against them. She stretched her legs out, toes flexing as she settled them between him and Ethan. Her hands lay on her stomach as she watched them in silence. Then she giggled, a brilliant red blush coloring her cheeks.

“You have no idea how incredibly awkward I feel at the moment,” she confessed, chewing on her lower lip. “This really isn’t something you jump into cold turkey. You have to work up to it. Crazy as it sound, I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Sure you do,” Ethan said, his arms coming down. He grabbed her right foot and eased it onto his lap as his fingers setting immediately to massaging various pressure points.

Her eyes drifted closed with an ecstatic sigh. “Oh, god, that feels good.”

“Now just lay back, relax, and when the mood strikes you . . .” he trailed off soothingly.

“And if I fall asleep?” she asked, working herself even deeper into the pillows.

Giles followed Ethan’s lead and took a hold of Joyce’s left foot. “Then we shall be forced to wake you,” he said, his thumbs digging into the sole.

“I’m supposed to find that a deterrent?”

Any consequence he could think of to throw at her only seemed like it would encourage her, so all he said was, “Just try and stay awake, alright?”

“I’ll try,” sighed contentedly, the barest hint of a smile twitching at her lips.

Ethan leaned over and whispered in his ear. “I do believe our girl is playing us.”

“Of course she is,” Giles replied, twisting so he could reach Ethan’s ear and nip playfully at the lobe. “And we deserve every minute of it.”

“Do we ever,” his lover replied as the continued to wait Joyce out.

 

~*~

Joyce was in heaven. Her toes curled in pleasure as tension she wasn’t aware of was worked out of her feet. Now this was something they needed to do for her more often. Oh, yes.

She hadn’t been lying to them when she said she just couldn’t start cold. Of all the times she had masturbated in front of them, it hadn’t been any entirely conscious decision. It just sort of happened. There was something extremely disconcerting about saying now I’m going to do this. You had to be in the moment. And while she wasn’t not in the moment, she just needed to be a bit more in the moment before she could. It wasn’t at all the fact that she was going to be the complete focus of their attention when she did this.

She could do this. She just needed to relax, take her time, and not be so unnerved by having Rupert and Ethan’s complete, undivided attention when she did this.

Come on, Joyce, she lectured herself. It’s just the first step. After that you aren’t going to give a damn if they’re watching you or not. Deep breath. In. Out. She thought of all the times she had pleasured herself in front of them, at Ripper’s request or to tide herself over when Rupert and Ethan got too caught up in each other or while waiting on one or the other to get ready. It had been easy enough then. But she hadn’t been thinking about it, either. Still, this wasn’t that different. And after the show they just gave her, she did need something to take the edge off.

Her left hand abandoned the safety of her stomach and began to wander slowly upward, taking its time to savor the warmth of her skin through the thin, smooth layer of silk. Up until it encountered a soft mound of flesh which immediately responded to the contact, tiny goosebumps breaking out over her skin. Languidly she explored her breast, over and around, down to gently cup it, testing the weight as her thumb sought the nipple, circling around and in, encouraging it to peaked prominence.

Satisfied, her left hand moved on to the other breast to lavish it with the same attention as her right began to journey downward, sliding over the terrain of her stomach until it reached the downward plunge of her sex.

Joyce worked the material of her slip upward, exposing herself by degrees, cool air thrilling the hot moist flesh it finally made contact with. Down her fingers dove, flitting over coarse curls, seeking out the wet, satiny flesh that lay concealed there. Teasing through her labia, her fingers slipped intently around, seeking, swirling around her clit. A tiny wave of pleasure washed over her at the initial touch. She worried the sensitive bundle of nerves until her body began to tense as it did just before climax. But not just yet. She eased off, moving lower, questing for entrance, sighing audibly as she found her way in, the pillowy walls of her channel wrapping gently around her fingers, welcoming her inside. Reluctantly almost she eased out, then back in, just a bit deeper. Out and in, reaching, trying to find, then out and in once more. She tried to open her legs farther, give herself more room to maneuver, but they wouldn’t move. It was as if they were held in place.

With considerable effort, Joyce opened her eyes, focusing blearily on Rupert and Ethan, both holding a foot and watching her in perfect stillness. They were positively transfixed. She had that much power over them. Jesus. It was almost too much to process. She wanted to close her eyes again, go back inside, and yet she couldn’t. Now that she had seen what she was doing them, it was impossible to tear her eyes away.

“Can you please—” she stopped. The words were barely audible. She swallowed, struggling to find her voice. Wiggling her right foot, she said to Ethan, “Let go.”

He snapped to attention, letting go as if shocked.

Joyce drew her leg up slightly and let it fall out over Ethan’s. Barely registering his smile of understanding, she resumed the in and out rhythm she had established.

Rupert seemed to catch on finally, and she felt her left foot freed. Her eyes fluttered closed briefly as she tried to regain her bearings, moving to open herself as far as she needed. Satisfied, she looked at them again as she decided to bring her left hand back into play. While her left hand returned attention to her swollen clit, her right hand began to work faster.

It wasn’t easy, but Joyce forced herself to look at them the entire time as she finally drove herself without hesitation towards climax.

“Oh, god,” she gasped as release finally claimed her, took her hard, her inner walls clenching tightly around her fingers as she came.

She lay there after, open and exhausted as she removed her hands to hang limply by her sides. Now that was a first. She’d never been the cause of her own earth-shattering orgasm before. It was . . . well, it was . . .

“Amazing,” she said out loud.

Now that was power.

 

~*~

She looked well and thoroughly ravished. And by her own hand, no less.

Ethan felt himself smile. That was his girl. Maybe now she had an idea of what he was trying to tell her earlier when he made the request.

“I did that,” she said in wonder.

He glanced over at Rupert, who looked a bit dazed, even more so than after their earlier encounter.

“That was incredible,” he said, as if he had just seen the most well kept secret of the universe revealed to him. And perhaps he had.

“Incredible doesn’t come close,” Ethan spoke finally. “Not close at all.”

Joyce sighed as she sat up, then made her way up to the top of the bed to settle between him and Rupert. “Let that just be a warning to you both,” she said lethargically, curling against Ethan’s side and resting her chin on his shoulder.

He peered down at her. “Now, why do you look at me when you say that? Rupert is just as much to blame.”

She shrugged as her right hand came up to trace idly around his chest. “Maybe because I know I have more of a chance of convincing you.”

Rupert shifted to his side to look at them both, his hand reaching out to coast appreciatively down Joyce’s back. “Which is the politically correct way of her saying that she has you wrapped around her finger.”

“Too right,” Ethan admitted freely, kissing Joyce’s forehead affectionately. “It was a hopeless case the night you crashed Rupert’s and my night out.”

“He invited me over,” she defended, her hand dipping lower, following the fine trail of hair that lead down his chest toward his cock, reawakened during Joyce’s performance but taking even more of an active interest now.

“As if he could resist. You used one of the oldest tricks in the book, telling the poor man you had been stood up,” Ethan goaded. “And flashing those legs of yours . . . You’re very fortunate Rupert has the self-restraint that he does.”

“So that would mean you’re actually the one to blame for this mess we’re in, Ethan,” Rupert chimed in, eyes dancing. “If Joyce was playing us and I had self-restraint, that would mean you caved, thusly it is your fault and not hers.”

Rupert could always out argue him. The man could have been a lawyer if he’d taken half a mind to.

Joyce sat up and glared at each of them in turn. “It’s still making me, the woman, out to be the bad guy. As if the poor male libido doesn’t stand a chance against feminine wiles.”

Ethan glanced at Rupert, who was fighting a smirk. “Of course it doesn’t. Don’t you know that it’s your duty to set a shining example of virtue for us to follow.”

The back of her hand smacked against his chest, and none too gently, either.

He grinned. “You know I love it when you get violent. All nails and teeth.”

She was in motion then, cat-like quick, hiking the gown up to straddle his legs. She rose up over him, fingers threading through his hair and tilting his head back so he had to look up at her. Leaning forward, her tongue teased along his ear. “And I love it when you fuck me without restraint. Rough and fast, marking me as yours.” Her whisper was low, deadly.

Ethan loved the idea. His cock loved it even more.

Joyce dropped her hips just enough to run her moist slit over his attentive cock, the silk of her slip tickling against his stomach.

As her hips moved away, his hands latched on, trying to pull her back.

She shook her head with a sultry smile, fighting his hold. “That’s not where I want you.”

He groaned aloud at the implication. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Mm hm.”

The bed dipped as Rupert leaned over and rumbled against his ear, “You do know the moment she’s through with you, you are mine.”

Yes, they were both definitely trying to kill him. “Not before?” he managed to inquire.

“All depends on my self-restraint,” Ripper purred as he moved away to recline back on his pillows.

“I really won’t think any less of you if it fails,” Ethan encouraged.

“I know you won’t.” Rupert drew his right leg up and curled his left leg under, making himself comfortable.

Taking this as her cue, Joyce made her way to the center of the bed, kneeling, legs apart and facing them, an odd choice of orientation unless one knew her, knew them. She wanted Rupert to see what Ethan did to her, to be able to see every subtle shift of emotion that crossed her face. She still wore the peignoir which rested at mid-thigh, hiding all the delights that lay underneath. She had remained clothed far longer than was acceptable. And he certainly didn’t want anything hindering his exploration of her body.

The first thing Ethan did when he slipped behind Joyce was relieve her of the peach slip. His hands started on the bare skin of her lower thigh, slowly caressing upward, catching on the hem of the garment and taking it with him as he moved up her body. Thighs to hips, over soft stomach, heavy breasts. She lifted her arms at just the right moment so he could continue the ascent unhindered. Once it was off her, Ethan tossed the offending cover into the shadows of the room.

“Much better,” he rumbled against her ear, hands retracing their path until they reached her breasts, where they could explore without restraint. “I don’t think I’ve told you half often enough,” he said while cradling each breast, enjoying the weight of the full, succulent, pliant flesh, “how much I love these.”

“Mm,” she replied noncommittally as she leaned back against his chest, giving herself over to his touch, relaxing against him.

Couldn’t have that. His thumb and forefinger came together, sharply tweaking one of her nipples, making her gasp sharply. He repeated the gesture on the other and was rewarded with the same response.

“Not so gentle,” she admonished.

Gentle, was it? Well, then. He tweaked both harder, causing her to arch up into his touch. That was his girl. He soothed the nipples, rubbing his thumbs in lazy circles, gently massaging.

She groaned in frustration.

“So impatient,” he shushed, lipping a light trail along her neck. Reaching a spot about mid-way, he brought his teeth into play just as his fingers closed on her nipples again.

“Oh, god,” she gave a sharp cry.

He chuckled. “That’s what I like to hear.” And he did both again before his hands abandoned her breasts for richer territory. His fingers pushed through coarse curls and labia to find her still very wet clit still swollen from her earlier work. Pressing down as he explored, Joyce’s body gave a subtle tremor. Every time he passed over the nub, Ethan was repaid with another almost electric response from Joyce, her breath catching at the sensation.

“I don’t want to come yet,” she pleaded hoarsely when he kept on.

“Oh, no, not yet,” he assured her, finally moving beyond her clit, two fingers slipping inside her quim without preamble. Her muscles clamped tightly around him, holding him there.

“Stay for a minute,” she said, taking slow, deep breaths.

And he did until he felt her body relax. He worked in and out of her for a few strokes before pulling out completely, quickly replacing his right hand with his left before she could protest. While his left hand maintained an easy but not-too-gentle rhythm, his right moved between them, searching between the firm, round globes of her ass until his slick fingers encountered and began to glide around the resistance he met there. Gradually she opened to him, allowing one finger in with little fuss and the second as well. She did protest when he tried for a third.

“No,” she whimpered slightly, sounding disappointed with herself.

“We’ve done this before, Joyce,” he said softly, not pushing her at the moment, just working with what she allowed.

“I know. It’s just been longer than I thought.”

“We’ll take it slow, alright? Remind your body of how much you love this. Want this,” he whispered along her neck.

“I do, I really do,” she sighed. When she spoke again, there was a thread of iron determination in her tone. “And we are not going this long between times again.”

“That you can count on,” he said, kissing the spot where her neck and shoulder joined as he removed his left hand from her pussy. He ran the moisture he had collected there along his shaft, the contact making him realize just how aroused he was. After a moment’s consideration, he decided there was enough natural lubricant to aid his entry. So he finally removed his right hand from her ass and moved his cock into position. “Too much or not enough, let me know, alright?”

She nodded, her right arm craning up to hook around his neck. “Ready,” she said.

Ethan found that she was still tight as he pressed in, but not as bad as he had thought. It looked like it had been awhile for everyone involved. He took his time easing in, letting her relax, accept him by degrees. Then he was in, pressed flush against her back, cock embraced tightly inside of her.

 

He wrapped an arm around her waist, hugging her close as he rested his chin on her shoulder, simply enjoying being inside of her, being with her at all. Being with Rupert.

Her hand came to rest over top of his. “You’re too quiet,” she said.

“Just appreciating how lucky I am to be with the people I love.” He looked over at Rupert, including him in the statement. It still wasn’t easy after all this time to make the admission. Even said indirectly, the words left him feeling exposed and too vulnerable for comfort.

He could hear the smile in Joyce’s voice when she spoke. “I know you still have trouble believing it, but we love you, too.”

“You do mean the Royal ‘we’, I hope,” Rupert said, his eyes belying the levity of his tone.

“You know I didn’t.”

“You don’t have to speak for me.” The words were spoken quietly. “Even if it is easier.” He looked at Ethan meaningfully.

“Well, I still think I’m lucky,” Ethan said.

There was a moment of quiet understanding, then the mood shifted again when Ripper corrected him. “How we got lucky. Always thinking about yourself.”

Ethan snorted. So much for that. “We had a nice little Halmark moment going there, and you ruined it.”

“Saved it, you mean. Sentimental just doesn’t suit you, Ethan. I’m sorry.” But he didn’t sound it in the least bit.

“Are you going to let him talk to me like that?” Ethan asked Joyce.

She craned her neck to glare at him. “Save the sentimental for later. Fuck me now.”

It wouldn’t be right to deny the lady, would it?

“Yes, dear,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed, but before she could retort, he pulled his hips back and plunged back in, making her cry out in surprise. She swallowed, then said, “I hate it when you do that.”

“Do what? This?” He repeated the motion, knowing that wasn’t what she meant.

She slapped his arm. “Don’t get cute. You know what I mean.”

“Would you rather ‘Yes, mother?’” he asked, establishing a steady rhythm.

She gave soft grunts of pleasure each time his cock sank back in. “I’d rather neither.”

His left hand swept back down to her unoccupied pussy, effectively cutting off any further protest from her.

Ethan lost himself in the soft slide of her quim along his fingers and the tight clutch of her ass around his cock. She was indeed incredible, but he soon realized Joyce wasn’t enough to satisfy him at the moment. Things felt incomplete.

He looked at Rupert again, still watching them, though stroking his cock with more intent now.

“This isn’t a spectator sport, Ripper.”

“It’s not?” Ripper’s eyes flashed challengingly.

“Get over here. Now,” Ethan ordered.

“Cocky.” Ripper grinned but obeyed, taking his time to riffle through the nightstand for the lubricant, unfold himself, and join them down where they were. “Well?”

“I think you know exactly what I want of you.”

“Do I?” Ripper asked before crushing his demanding mouth against Ethan’s. It was brutal and punishing, meant to remind Ethan that his command of the situation would come with a price down the line. It was a price Ethan looked forward to paying.

“Rupert!” Joyce’s sharp protest broke them apart. “You’re distracting him too much.”

The lady was right. Ethan had all but stopped his attentions to her when Rupert joined them.

Rupert reached over and cradled her cheek lovingly. “Bear with us just a bit longer, Joyce. We’ll make it up to you.”

She sighed heavily and attempted to sound put upon. “As if I haven’t heard that before.”

“Certainly,” Ethan said as Rupert drew away from Joyce and moved behind him. “And we always follow through, don’t we?”

She leaned back against him again. “Usually,” she grudged.

“Good girl.” He kissed her temple.

Just then he felt cool, slick fingers circle his rear passage, pressing insistently for entry. He groaned when not one but two of Rupert’s fingers slipped inside.

“Not going for the gentle approach tonight are we?” he said as Rupert’s fingers scissored slightly, stretching him. The third finger was just short of too much, bordering on pain. Perfect.

A moment later, Rupert’s cock replaced his fingers, sliding in with practiced efficiency. Sandwiched between his lovers, Ethan knew with absolute certainty that this was his heaven. He held no illusions about what awaited him after he finally managed to get himself killed once and for all.

Joyce and Rupert began to move then as if by some unspoken signal, Ethan riding between them in the coordinated thrust-retreat rhythm. Limited by position from participating too much in the main event, he resumed his earlier attentions to Joyce’s pussy.

“About time,” Joyce sighed contentedly as she rode both hand and cock.

Unsurprisingly, Rupert refused to remain a background participant. His hand soon joined Ethan’s and they alternated clit for cunt as they all writhed together in decadent pleasure.

This was without a doubt heaven. This was where he belonged.

 

~*~

Giles awoke to the pale yellow light of morning just teasing through the curtains. Morning always came too soon for his tastes, even on days when he didn’t have to immediately rush off to the Council and could linger there all day if he desired. The fact was, he had always preferred the night. It was his time. It always had been, especially when Ripper reigned, but just as much before and after. Night meant freedom that was never quite possible during the day, regardless of the number of responsibilities that claimed him.

But mornings did have their enticements, such as waking up wrapped around a lean and undeniably masculine frame, and just beyond that the soft feminine curves of a woman in the prime of her life resting under his fingertips. There was nothing quite like waking up in bed with his lovers, even if it was a near everyday occurrence now. They were something he was far too grateful for to ever take for granted. And it was going to kill him the day he lost one or both of them for good, be it through stupidity (which he hoped they were well past), the dangers of their world, or due to the natural course of life.

After Eyghon, he had sworn he would never get attached to anyone again, just do his duty and live out his days in solitude. There had been lovers over the years, of course. He wasn’t a monk, but it was never anything too serious. Jenny was the first person who had made him reconsider a life alone. She had shown him a glimpse of what he was missing, but she was taken too soon for him to know if it would have been anything lasting or not. After that, it was back to his resolve. Back to the occasional date, far less than occasional lover. There was of course the band candy incident with Joyce, but he had used his duty to Buffy as an excuse of letting her slip away. And then he was given a second chance, not just with her but with a boy he had run away from many years ago because what they had was too volatile not to end with one of them dead. He had been just vulnerable enough to let them in that night nearly four years ago. It hadn’t been easy and had nearly ended more times than he cared to count, but in the end, here they were. Still together. It wasn’t hearts and flowers, but no one really wanted those things. They weren’t real. This was. And it was good. And hopefully would be for sometime to come.

But now wasn’t the time to think about the future and what might or might not be. There was too much to enjoy in the here and now. Giles noted that he was no longer alone in his wakefulness. Joyce stretched awake with a contented sigh, disturbing Ethan, who grumbled unintelligibly as he burrowed deeper under covers. However, intentional or not, Ethan’s motions rubbed his ass provocatively back against Giles’ cock, almost guaranteeing that he would be awake before long, though not necessarily of his own choosing. He would be grumpy and complain every step of the way until Giles and Joyce reminded him just why it was good to wake up early.

Yes, the night was Giles favorite, but the morning definitely ran a very close second.


End file.
